


Tactile Comforts

by JRC



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (the accidental vouyerism is very brief and not intentional or described), Accidental Voyeurism, Clothed Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27033271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRC/pseuds/JRC
Summary: With blood still singing from battle, L'lo returns to the Kienkan for some comfort in solitude... but it seems Hydaelyn has other plans for her this day. And so does Lord Hien.
Relationships: Hien Rijin/Warrior of Light
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	Tactile Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> A heartfelt thanks to Forgiven Whimsy in the book club for the brainworms that inspired me to write this piece!

L’lo let out an undignified squawk as she turned her eyes upon yet another room that was meant to be empty, occupied instead by a pair of furiously humping combatants from the battle that had died down what felt like mere minutes before. She hastily slid shut the door she had tugged open in her quest for some gods-damned solitude, sending a silent prayer to the Twelve that she had managed to close it before the room’s occupants had noticed her presence. The miqo’te huffed quietly, turning on her heel and stalking off down the next hallway of the Kienkan, balling her battle-filthy hands into fists at her sides. That had been the _third couple_ she had walked in on, engaging in post-battle… stress relief. She might have been more flustered by the couples and their activities, were she not also suffering from the same post-battle rush of... _urges_. 

Her tail lashed from side to side viciously, as she stopped just outside each door in turn, pausing only long enough to verify that the room had occupants already, engaged in the very act that L’lo herself was so hungry for. She allowed herself one rare moment of frustrated self-pity, stomping a foot on the carpet as she listened to someone, somewhere in the nearby rooms, cry out in ecstasy. It was horribly unfair - all the rank and file soldiers got to go off and fuck whoever they wanted after the battle had ended. But not her. No, the vaunted _Warrior of Light_ had diplomatic affairs to see to. Companions who would flock about her and congratulate her, applaud her for a job well done, stand beside her and stare down at whatever villain she had bested this time, talk - talk _endlessly_ \- about what to do next.

No, by the time L’lo was free to do as she pleased after any fight, everybody so inclined had already taken up with each other, indulging in the primal, carnal pleasures that fit so naturally into the state of mind one would often retreat to in the life-or-death situation that was any important battle. She would kick and scream and break things, had she not her reputation to maintain. As matters were, however, she may well end up disappearing into the bamboo forest nearby to do just that, frustrated as she was…

The miqo’te yelped as she stepped abruptly into something solid - _someone_ , she amended, as she blinked quickly to clear her mind of her sexually frustrated thoughts, not wanting to give anyone the wrong (yet so, so right) impression. The wall before her was made of muscle, not wood or stone, and L’lo turned spring green eyes up to meet those of Lord Hien, his knowing hazel eyes dancing with amusement as he beheld the Warrior of Light, her upper arms caught in his own blood-spattered hands to prevent her from falling after their collision. The Doman lord quickly released her, holding out his hands in apology, and took a measured step back from L’lo, allowing her her personal space.

“My friend,” Hien chuckled, inclining his head ever so slightly to the side as he looked down at her, the corners of his lips quirking up into an amused smirk. “What might be the purpose for such haste?” he asked, hooking his thumbs into one of the numerous belts that held his robes shut, and assuming an easy stance before her. Judging by the glint in his eyes, L’lo suspected that the Doman lord already knew full well what had her moving in such haste, and pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her chest as she arched an eyebrow up at him. This only prompted Hien to chuckle, and L’lo rolled her eyes as Hien shrugged helplessly.

A punched-out groan echoed through the hallway around them just then, and L’lo actually jumped, her nerves still frayed thin with adrenaline from the recent battle, growling beneath her breath as she turned towards the source of the sound, her ears twitching in a vain attempt to discern which room the sound had come from. When she had managed to soothe her ruffled nerves and turn back to Hien, she felt color rise in her cheeks as she noticed how the Doman lord was watching her, something darker, something hungry in his eyes. Caught staring, Hien blinked and looked away from her, clearing his throat as he appeared to compose himself, before turning back to her with concern in his eyes, instead of… instead of what? What _had_ that been? What had she _wanted_ it to be…?

“...L’lo?” Hien’s voice cut through her thoughts, and the miqo’te blinked quickly, her eyes refocusing on the Doman lord’s face above her. He arched a curious brow down at her, and L’lo merely offered a sheepish smile in return, reaching up to rub the back of her neck with a blood-encrusted palm. “I was just asking if the sounds bothered you, my friend,” Hien informed her, folding his arms over his chest, that same concern in his eyes present too in his voice as he spoke to her.

L’lo couldn’t help but laugh at that, and so she did, bringing a hand up to chuckle behind the screen of her fingers at the thought of someone being so scandalized by such sounds. By the Twelve, she didn’t want to escape the sounds, she wanted to be the one _making_ them. She signed as much, mostly because of the fact that she knew Hien could not understand her hand signals, and sighed, reaching up to brush a strand of sweat-soaked hair from her brow. 

She was startled, therefore, to feel Hien’s hand abruptly placed upon her waist, his fingertips digging in just enough to let her feel his possessive touch through her garments. L’lo turned eyes wide with surprise up at the Doman lord, who was all but devouring her with his gaze, a fire burning within those hazel eyes that she had seen there before only when Hien spoke of Doma and her people. “Is that so?” Hien murmured, stepping closer to her then, until their torsos nearly brushed together, prompting L’lo to suck in a sharp, expectant breath. “I would happily indulge you, my friend, should you choose to have me,” he breathed, and L’lo could see how much effort it took Hien to refrain from licking his lips. “It need not mean anything, if you do not want it to. But I should be honored to help you silence your blood after such an invigorating battle. I hear its song too, after all,” the Doman lord added meaningfully, withdrawing his hand from L’lo’s waist already.

The miqo’te snatched Hien’s hand and placed it back on her waist, pressing it there firmly, as she nodded up at Hien, licking her lips unashamedly at the lord’s generous offer. She relished in the way Hien’s pupils blew wide at her acceptance, the bob of his throat as he swallowed thickly, and curled her hands into the fabric of his robe, unwilling to release him for even a moment. Hien let out a breathy chuckle and tightened his grasp on her waist before reluctantly tearing his gaze away from her to scan the halls of the Kienkan for passersby. Seeing none, he gently turned L’lo around, and began to guide her down the empty halls with a hand pressed into the small of her back, thumb rubbing small circles into the base of her spine as they walked.

L’lo’s head felt stuffed thick with cotton as she preceded Hien down this hall and that, hardly aware of her surroundings other than the firm body at her back and its reassuring heat. It felt as though no time passed at all before Hien was stepping around her, never once removing his hand from her back, and opening a door to a room L’lo had never seen before. She glanced up at the Doman lord, who smirked, dark promise simmering in his eyes, and nodded for her to enter ahead of him. The Warrior of Light inclined her head, and folded her hands delicately before stepping into the room, which at a glance, she recognized as Hien’s private chambers.

L’lo cleared her throat, feeling her muscles loosening already now that they were no longer in such a public area, and opened her mouth to address the Doman lord, only to find herself shoved back against the wall beside the door, Hien’s lips claiming hers. She reciprocated without hesitation, reaching up to wrap her arms about her companion’s neck, and submitted to Hien as he bit, nipped, and licked into her mouth, like a man starved. His hands seized her hips and pulled them flush against his own, his treatment delightfully rough, fingertips digging in hard enough to make her yelp into his mouth.

The Doman lord pulled back immediately, dragging a whimper from L’lo at his abrupt departure, and held his hands up cautiously. “Was that too hard?” he asked, gesturing to the miqo’te’s hips, then glancing back up to meet her gaze with a worried one of his own. “It was not my intent to harm you-”

“It was delicious,” L’lo purred, reaching out to seize Hien by the front of his robe and tug him flush against her, her voice raspy from disuse. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, her lips brushing against Hien’s, despite the way she had to rise onto her toes just to reach them. 

All reservations thus dispelled, L’lo groaned happily against Hien’s lips as they crashed against her own once more, and he surged forward, pinning her against the wall anew. The lord’s calloused fingers smoothed frantically over her armor, and L’lo was so involved in their kiss for a time that she did not realize what Hien was attempting to do until the Doman lord growled against her lips. His capable hands tore her jacket open, fastenings scattering around them with barely-audible tinkling sounds as they hit the floor.

“I liked that jacket,” L’lo chuckled against Hien’s lips as he pulled back to breathe - and, apparently so he could work at the fastenings of his own armor, his fingers flying over the fastenings hidden beneath the fabric of his robe. Not to be outdone, the miqo’te reached down and slid her fingers into the waistband of her own trousers, sliding the leather down her legs until she could step out of the leggings and her boots both, leaving her in only her torn jacket, and the short skirt she wore above her trousers. 

Hien, too, had finished his hasty undressing, and reached up to cup L’lo’s breasts beneath the remnants of her jacket, even as he pinned her back against the wall with his hips, his erection digging into her thigh, with only the thin fabric of their skirts separating them now. “Fuck me,” the Warrior of Light gasped, reaching beneath Hien’s robe to fondle his erection, relishing in the feeling of the firm flesh twitching in response to her touch.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Hien growled, leaning in until he could grasp the back of her thighs, which he used to hoist her up and pin her against the wall once more with his hips, this time with no armor or fabric to prevent their sexes from pressing together, Hien’s throbbing length sliding against L’lo’s slick folds, drawing a gasp from both warriors at once.

“In in in in in in,” the miqo’te pleaded, hiking herself up against Hien’s chest by wrapping her legs about his torso, panting as she writhed against her companion’s body, her blood’s singing reaching a fevered pitch as she rocked against the Doman lord, so close to what she so desperately needed.

Her lover obliged, reaching around L’lo’s thigh to guide himself to her entrance, before he gripped her hips firmly once again, and tugged her down onto his length until he was hilted fully within her. L’lo cried out at the sensation of being so blissfully, blessedly full, and Hien groaned, leaning in to sink his teeth into the flesh between her neck and shoulder. The miqo’te sank her claws into her lover’s shoulders, raking at the scarred flesh there only just shy of hard enough to make Hien bleed, as she clung to his body, simply hanging on for the ride. The lord of Doma was an experienced lover, or at least a very skilled learner, for as he bucked up into her again and again, stars exploded behind L’lo’s eyelids, and her voice rose in pitch until she was mewling her approval with every thrust. Her tail curled around Hien’s thigh as he fucked her brutally, ceaselessly into the wall, and she forsook her clawing at his shoulder in favor of sinking her teeth into the already-scarred flesh there, her tongue tasting sweat and blood even as she fought to keep from screaming out her pleasure.

She need not have worried, L’lo realized belatedly, as Hien shouted out, his hips stuttering against her own as a sudden warmth exploded within her core, and she felt his seed spill inside her. Between the thumping of her back against the wall, and Hien’s own exclamations, it would be a wonder if this half of the Kienkan did not know what their Lord was up to. The miqo’te reached down to tend to her own pleasure, but found her hand batted away by a sweat-drenched Hien, who smirked up at her before replacing her hand with his own, and digging his thumb into her clit, then beginning to encircle it with a vicious pressure.

“O-Oh, _ah,_ ” L’lo choked out, clinging to her lover anew at the unexpected pleasure, only to let out a wailing keen that she did her best to muffle in the flesh of Hien’s throat as he coaxed her over the edge, expertly working her through her orgasm. She could feel the Doman lord’s chest shaking with silent laughter as she relaxed in his arms, and L’lo smirked, but sunk her teeth into Hien’s throat in silent retribution, hard enough to bruise.

“Ngh… I probably deserved that,” Hien chuckled, turning to rest his cheek against L’lo’s, still panting from their exertions. She clung to his heaving chest, her own still rising and falling rapidly as she came down from her high, and the miqo’te reluctantly removed her teeth from her lover’s throat, laving over the already-darkening marks with her tongue by way of apology. “Here. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he sighed, slipping out of L’lo with a sound that would ordinarily have made her blush, and the Warrior of Light chuckled breathlessly, content to allow Hien to care for her, as the Doman lord lifted her away from the wall, and carried her over to the humble futon in the corner of the room.

L’lo hooked her claws into Hien’s sleeve as he moved to step back once he had set her gently down atop the futon, and dragged him back down with a needy little whine that the miqo’te would not later admit she had made. Her companion chuckled, crouching down to gently dislodge her claws from his robe, and reached down to ruffle her hair fondly. L’lo leaned into the touch, purring softly, until Hien set her hand back down on the futon beside her, and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head. “Stay, relax, my friend. I will be but a moment. Then you may do as you like with me,” he promised, lips curled into an affectionate grin. The miqo’te huffed, but nodded, sitting up to shrug free of the remnants of her jacket, then shimmy out of her skirt.

Hien straightened up and began to unfasten his belts as he made his way to an adjoining door, letting pieces of his stately outfit fall to the ground as he walked. L’lo closed her eyes, nuzzling into the blankets atop the futon now that she lay comfortably bare, and only opened them once she felt the futon dip beneath the weight of another body. Hien had slid onto the futon beside her, clad in a thin silk robe, and leaned in to press a delicate kiss to L’lo’s brow before he set about wiping her clean, both from their activities and the battle beforehand. The miqo’te simply closed her eyes once more and relaxed into the gentle touches, Hien’s delicate ministrations with the warm cloth enough to lull her nearly to sleep. 

She cracked an eyelid open once Hien settled on the futon beside her, one hand hovering over her waist, wearing an expression of uncertainty. L’lo smiled fondly, reaching over to take Hien’s hand and lay it on her waist, before she rolled closer to him on the bed, until her back pressed flush against his chest, against that smooth silk robe he now wore. “I like to cuddle…” she whispered, drawing Hien’s hand up from her waist and nuzzling into his palm affectionately, as the rumbling purr started up within her chest once more.

“I cannot complain, especially not to see you resting as you deserve, my friend,” Hien murmured, brushing his nose alongside one of her ears, before letting out a breathy chuckle at the sensation of her tail winding around his thigh once more. He reached down to L’lo’s side, and drew the blankets up over her first, then himself, tucking them neatly into the futon in preparation for their impending rest. 

“Rest easy, my friend,” the Doman lord breathed, beginning to card his calloused fingers through the miqo’te’s hair, eliciting a contented little sigh from the Warrior of Light, who merely nestled back against his chest. “I will suffer no harm to come to you this day. Just… rest.” L’lo was already asleep by the time Hien sucked in a shaky breath, the scent of her, and exhaled slowly, cautiously. “May the Kami help me…” he murmured, committing this quiet moment to memory, certain he would never see another of its like.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, blame the book club. Or just come screech at me there! Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched Book Club: https://discord.gg/ME4eAEt


End file.
